Complete
by Tiggy the Hopeless Romantic
Summary: A little post-musical Fiyeraba fluff. I don't think any explanation beyond that is needed. Happy Late Valentine's Day!


Written for Valentine's Day, even if I didn't have the time to type it up yesterday. I hope it was good for everyone!

* * *

"You're perfect," she whispered in pure awe as she looked into his human eyes, over his human nose, set in his human face. She laughed with real happiness as she brushed leftover straw away from him. A pile of it landed at their feet, no longer necessary. Flesh and bone, skin and muscle had retaken their rightful places in him. "You're absolutely perfect, again,"

He shook his head, "I wouldn't say I'm perfect, even if you _do _do excellent work, love," he insisted as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. They stood in the middle of the main room of their little home. "But I'm whole again, and I wouldn't dream of asking for anything else. Boq wasn't the only one bereft of a heart, you know? Mine was gone, too. I just knew where mine was. I'd already left it with you. It's yours, forever. I _hope _you know that. I'm only complete now because I can hold you in my arms again."

She leaned her head against his shoulder and let her lips brush against his neck with feather-light kisses as she said, "You wouldn't be alive without your heart."

"_Exactly_," he said as he turned to kiss her lips, unable to keep away from her, overjoyed at being able to not only see her beauty and hear her voice, but to use all of his senses. They all seemed to be magnified due to their former lack of use.

Shyly she nudged his old, torn uniform aside. It had once been a pristine vivid green, but now the color had faded and the clothing had gained the same patchwork look as her own dress. Her fingertips felt cool against his chest as she studied him. There was no sign of his former injuries. There was no sign he'd nearly given his life for her. They were both glad for that- not for any cosmetic reason, but because they both knew that if Elphaba were to be forced to study his injuries day in and day out, the guilt and memories would kill her.

She touched the exposed skin over his heart. "I'm not convinced. There's no scar that shows where it's been ripped from you. I say it's where it's always been." She replaced her fingertips with her lips and was pleased to feel soft, human warmth had indeed replaced the Scarecrow's body.

He slid her hair aside and slowly undid the buttons at her back. The bodice of the dress dipped lower when he cupped her chin so she straightened up. "Haven't you ever heard of a metaphor, Fae? Weren't you supposed to be the good student?" He teased her gently as they slowly made their way to the bedroom, holding the bed she had used and he had not. That would change, and soon.

"Not I. Did you forget I dropped out in the Spring of my freshman year? Uneducated and unskilled am I. Besides, literature and linguistics were never my thing. Give me cold facts. Something I actually have to interpret..."

"Shall I educate you on on it, then?" He pushed the dress down and let his hands rest on her slim waist. He could nearly span her middle with his hands and mentally reminded himself to make her eat more; she was the type to simply forget to feed herself. She always had so much going on in her mind sometimes he thought she would forget to breathe if her body didn't do it for her. "A metaphor isn't literal. The literal heart that pumps blood might be where it's always been," She pressed herself against his chest and could hear the life giving organ. "But metaphorically, my heart is yours and always will be."

"So I guess you could say my heart is yours, too. Couldn't you?" She stepped out of the dress, feeling bold and unafraid because his eyes held no sign that he would leave her, ever.

"I can't answer that one. _You_ have to. Would you say your heart is mine? Metaphorically?" The rest of his clothing joined hers on the floor. They fell together onto the bed.

"I would say that it's always been yours. No one else can lay claim to it, and no one else ever has." He kissed her gently. There was still passion and intensity, but their was no longer the rushed, frantic feeling that had been present when they had been alone in the forest. They had all of the time in the world now, and there was no danger. They could afford to take their time and enjoy each other.

He ran his hands over the smooth dark hair and said to her in a hushed voice, "Do you understand what I mean, now? I am not complete without you."

"Yes," she murmured. "Because I'm not complete without you, either."


End file.
